In My Time of Dying
by ImpulsiveWriter321
Summary: What if Sam was in danger from the car crash, and not Dean? What'll happen when the yellow eyed demon shows up? Alternate beginning to Season Two, where Sam is dying, and not John. WARNING: John is pretty OC...because I wrote him that way.


**Disclaimer: I don't own any of the Supernatural characters, unless I made them! Which in this story I didn't...sad.**

** Warning!: John is pretty OC here, but I wrote him that way because I wanted to! I promise once I start my real Supernatural story – this is just a one-shot – he'll be in character...most of the time. :) This is what I think would happen if Sam was the one in danger from the car accident in the Season one finale. **

** John's POV**

I walked down the white hallway, the smell of disinfectant penetrating my nostrils. I grimaced and wiped my face with my hand. That accident had put a big dent in all of us, including the Impala. Sam and I were already discharged, we were just waiting for them to discharge Dean. He was fine, the doctor even said, but he was wary of letting him go just yet. He was due to be discharged today. The coffee I had in my hand burned my skin but it felt good. It gave me that little extra push. I turned toward the room that was once mine and where I left Sam waiting. We were waiting for the doctor to come to us with Dean's discharge papers and then we could get the hell out of here.

But as I turned the corner, the coffee cup fell from my hand.

Sam was laying on the ground, eyes closed, and his chest wasn't moving.

I ran to him, dropping to my knees as my fingers searched his neck, looking for a pulse. I found none.

"Help! Someone help!" I screamed. No, this couldn't be happening. Not now, it couldn't. We were all supposed to be fine. Sam was actually discharged before even me. He was fine. He was fine. He was fine.

No.

He wasn't breathing. His heart wasn't beating. He wasn't responding.

He wasn't fine.

Nurses and doctors swarmed into the room, pushing me out of the way.

"Sam?" My voice was a whisper. I reached for him, needing to feel his hand in mine. But one of the nurses pulled me up and out of the way, saying something like "It's alright, sir. Please go sit down in the waiting area."

Yeah, right.

My breath hitched as I watched the doctors place a breathing thing on my son's face. No. They yelled out some numbers and said some other medical things, but all I saw was my baby's face draining. Draining of life. Two doctors lifted Sam up and onto the bed, ripping open his shirt. One checked his pulse again while the other got some machine ready. He yelled, "clear!" and placed the buzzers on Sam's chest. My knees went weak as his body arched, and then fell like a dead weight back onto the bed. My vision started to go, tears flowing down my face.

"Dad?" I spun around to find Dean standing there, a confused look on his face. He had a duffel on his arm and papers in his hand that I guessed were his discharge papers. I didn't take the time to think about how he got them. I didn't care at the moment. Instead, I watched as his face paled at the sight of my tears. "Dad, what happened?"

"Sam..." I choked. His expression changed from confused to dead worried in less than a second as he pushed past me, into the room. The doctors were still trying to get something out of Sam, with no avail. Dean dropped his duffel and the papers as he stared at his brother.

"Sammy...no...Sammy!" I reached forward just in time to grab Dean around the waist. He had lunged forward to go to his brother, to hold him.

"Let me go! Dad, let me go!" He said through tears. I couldn't let him go. I couldn't.

"Clear!" His body arched again, and again, and again.

I closed my eyes against the sight, letting my mind wander to a different time. A time where none of this was happening.

_I watched as Dean chased Sam around the yard, trying to tag him. Sam had somehow gotten himself up a short tree and was yelling down at Dean._

_ "Try to get me up here, big brother!" _

_ "Aw, Sammy, you know that's totally unfair! You're able to climb that far up because your smaller!" Dean yelled back, even though he was grinning from ear to ear. I knew that Dean could easily just get on his tippy toes and reach Sam, but he was playing for Sam's benefit. _

_ "Fine..." Sam got himself down and then dodged from Dean's grasped. I was proud to see how agile he already was. He needed to be ready when..._

_ No, I wouldn't think about that now. Not yet. _

_ As I was lost in my own thoughts, something must have happened. I heard a pained scream come from my right and I shot up like a bullet from my seat and ran out onto the soft grass. As I got closer, I saw Sam curled up in Dean's arms, sobbing. My poor three year old had tears sliding down his face and a large, bloody cut on his knee. _

_ "He tripped," Dean answered my unspoken question before I even bent down to take Sam from Dean's grasp. Sam's arms wrapped around my neck and he sobbed into the crook of my shoulder. _

_ "Shh, it's okay Sammy. It's going to be okay." I clutched him tighter as I brought him into the house. _

_ "I'll get the first aid kit," Good ol' Dean, always on the ball. As Dean ran to get the kit, I placed Sammy on the counter and wiped his tears away._

_ "It's okay, Sam, Dean will be back soon with the kit and we can get you fixed up. Then you two can go play again." _

_ Sam looked at me with large brown eyes and I stared into what I now know as his puppy dog stare. His lower lip quivered and he reached his arms up to me again. _

_ "Daddy..." _

_ My heart melted as I wrapped my arms around the shivering three year old. It took a lot of power to peel him off of me so that I could fix his knees and Dean had to distract him the entire time to keep his attention away from the small pains. _

_ "Thank you, Daddy," Sam murmured, as I lowered him onto the floor. _

_ "Your welcome, tiger. Now, you and Dean go back out and play, but watch out for those rocks!" _

_And as he ran out after Dean, his large smile put back in place, I couldn't imagine living without either one of my boys._

My eyes opened again, to the same sight. The doctors still trying to save Sam, and myself holding back a scared Dean. I heart wrenched at the thought that I couldn't do that now. I couldn't just pick Sam up, hold him and wipe away his tears while I told him it was going to be okay.

"Dean, go outside." I muttered. He turned to send an angry glare my way.

"No! I'm not going to wait outside! Forget it!" He tried yet again to get to Sam but I gripped him tighter and pulled him out into the hall.

"We need to stay out of there way if they're going to have any chance to save Sam," I told him, my voice scarily monotone.

"What do you think -" He died off, seeing the terrified look on my face. He plopped down into a chair and held his head in his hands. His body shook with quiet sobs. I took a breath and turned around, looking back into the room.

"I'm going to have to take him."

I almost jumped out of my skin at the voice next to me. I looked to see Death standing there, with his assistant looking on with an emotionless face.

"No...no!" I whispered. Death looked at me with a sad face.

"I'm sorry, John. You know I have to." Why? Why was he talking to me? If he to take Sam he would have just done it, he wouldn't have taken the time to talk to me. My tears fell harder and faster as he stepped toward the doorway.

"No!" I strode forward and placed my hand out, ready to grab his shoulder.

"I wouldn't do that, Johnathan," I froze, my blood running cold. Death and his assistant looked past me and I swore I saw Death's eyes widen. I turned to see a man standing there...with bright yellow eyes.

"You..." I growled. Was he doing this? Was he killing my baby?

"Step aside, all of you." He made a move to walk into the room, and Death was going to let him. But I jumped in front of him, my fist clenching.

"Not a chance." I wanted to kill him right there. I wanted to kill him for killing my wife and hurting my child.

"Do you want your son to live or not, John?" His voice was deathly quiet. I looked at my son again, and noticed that the flurry of activity was starting to die down. But Sam still wasn't moving. They couldn't do it. They couldn't save my son.

He took that moment to get past me.

He went to Sam's bedside and placed both hands on his chest. Suddenly, a bright light filled the room and I had to look away. Once the light died down, he was standing by me again, looking at Sam.

"We have a heartbeat!" One of the nurses called. The activity started up again, as they checked all of Sam's other vitals. Death was standing farther away now, by Dean. Dean's head had shot up at the nurses voice. Did he not see the demon's around us right now?

"Sammy? Sam!" Dean shot past me and into the room, taking his brother's hand in his.

"Goodbye, John." Death nodded at me, with a slightly relived look on his face. Then he turned around, and he and his assistant were both gone.

"John." I turned slowly and faced the demon who took my wife.

"Why?" I whispered, the tears still running down my face and now onto the floor.

"I give and I take away." He answered, and then he was gone. I rubbed my face and stepped toward my boys. I made it all the way to Sam's bedside before I broke. I hiccuped a sob and dropped to my knees. My shaking hands made there way to my baby's head, stroking his hair and face. I dropped my head so that our noses were touching, and I allowed my body to shake with sobs. I could feel Dean's gaze on me, the thoughts of confusion running through his head. But, I doubt he cared. I knew he only cared if Sam was okay or not.

I know one thing for sure...

No one was ever going to hurt my boys again.


End file.
